Singapore Journal; A Fastidious City-State Has an Answer for Crows

By WAYNE ARNOLD

Published: September 21, 2000

Correction Appended

SINGAPORE—
The men with shotguns gathered in the park at dusk, loaded their weapons and fanned out along the shoreline between the palm trees and the concrete path with its signs warning joggers: ''Beware of falling coconuts.''

These are the front lines of Singapores long-running war against a hated foreign intruder, the crow. There are about 100,000 crows on this Manhattan-sized island nation, 50,000 too many, the government has decreed.

So since 1982, authorities have entrusted the Singapore Gun Club with helping them cull the crows. The government furnishes the ammunition. The club provides its members, who volunteer their time and skills in tracking down and killing as many crows as they can.

This particular evening, the crows obliged by appearing over the tree-line, winging their way back from a day of foraging to roost in a copse of mangroves, unaware of the ambush ahead.

''These are the early birds,'' said Dennis Lim, the club's mild-mannered second vice president, as he eyed the cawing mass gathering over the tiny mangrove swamp. By day an editor of a local news station's Web site, after hours Mr. Lim is head of the club's anti-crow commandos. ''We'll wait for more shooters,'' he said. ''We're not at full strength yet.''

The sharpshooters arrived, 18 in all, not in rusted pickups with gun racks, but in BMW's and shiny new Japanese sedans. The club secretary, Tang Kee Khong, emerging from a vintage Mercedes, launched the attack. Making mock caws to lure a circling mass of crows from the swamp, Mr. Tang aimed skyward and pop, pop, two crows plummeted to the ground, dead. The sound of gunfire soon filled the park as sharpshooters on the opposite side of the swamp began flushing the birds from the mangroves.

Maligned almost everywhere as pests and bad omens, crows are a particular nuisance in a city-state so fastidious that vandals are caned, litterbugs are fined and the sale of chewing gum is banned.

Crows are also suspected of carrying disease. In the United States, crows are believed to be spreading the deadly mosquito-borne West Nile virus even as it decimates their population. Singapore authorities are concerned the birds could spread illnesses from the carrion and waste they eat.

''They're dirty,'' Mr. Lim said. ''I've seen them eating the carcass of a dead dog hit by a car, with maggots in their beaks.''

The Agri-Food Veterinary Authority puts it this way: ''Crows are a social menace. They are aggressive and tend to attack people when they are guarding their nests, including snatching food from children. The crows destroy TV antennae, tear up refuse bags and soil the area with spillage. They gather in large numbers to roost in the evenings and cause noise nuisance and soil the area with their droppings.''

What makes the crows even more insidious to Singaporeans is that the worst offender is not even from around here. It is the so-called house crow, a species smaller than the crows native to these parts, that is most troublesome. Naturalists believe the British brought the birds here from India.

Traps do not work: crows are too clever to be fooled more than once. The same goes for poison bait, which is equally lethal to popular species such as mynas, doves and egrets.

Two years ago, the government enlisted the military's shooting club to help out, but it is still the volunteers who account for the most kills. Last year, they were responsible for nearly 11,000 of the 18,000 crows shot down. So far this year, they have killed more than 12,000 crows, and Mr. Lim says they will very likely kill 20,000 by year's end.

Singapore is not the only place where crows have drawn a death sentence. Malaysia conducts its own crow culls. Authorities in Tokyo have begun raiding crows' nests and putting the chicks to death. And many American farmers and hunters have long treated crows as moving bull's-eyes.

Mr. Lim, 48, has been shooting crows with the club since 1988. A veteran hunter, he grew up hunting fruit bats with his brother at night in local cemeteries before skyscrapers replaced Singapore's orchards.

The other marksmen come from various walks of life. One is a dentist, another a stock trader. Some are better shots than others. ''I've hit zero so far,'' said Lee Eng Hong, a contractor, with an embarrassed grin. ''Sometimes you overlead,'' he said. ''Sometimes under.''

Tough gun laws make firearm ownership rare in Singapore. Those who want to buy firearms must undergo a lengthy background check and interview with the police. Once they buy their weapons they cannot take them home. Firearms have to stay under lock and key in a club armory.

But the crow hunters have special permission to take their shotguns outside the club. Even so, they are not allowed to be alone when they do. And not everyone can join the fray, Mr. Lim said. He handpicks the most experienced volunteers from among the club's 200-odd members. While tonight they worked among the joggers, at other times they hunt in shipyards and even housing projects.

Despite working so close to people, Mr. Lim said the club volunteers have not hit anyone.

There is no bloodlust evident among the men, only a solemn respect for their foe's notorious cunning. Social beings, crows will signal others of danger and organize to defend wounded fellows if possible. Marksmen swear the crows recognize guns on sight.

Don't the hunters ever feel for the crows? ''We do,'' said Dennis Lim, ''but if you don't cull them, they multiply.''

Not everyone in Singapore feels the same way. The volunteers say angry bird lovers occasionally confront them. Not all the crows, after all, die instantly. A few unlucky ones lie writhing on the ground, bleeding to death.

But on this day, the public seemed supportive. ''Hey! Long time ago you should come shoot,'' one jogger yelled as he gave the sharpshooters the thumbs-up sign.

But being a crow hunter can be hard on family life, Mr. Lim said. They get home long after dinner is cold, he said, and their wives often find it hard to stomach the occasional blood-spattered clothing they wear home.

Given the private costs and the absence of public reward, Mr. Lim says it is getting harder and harder to keep volunteers. He is trying to recruit younger men to replace those who retire, marksmen like Jason Ang. A 27-year-old, Mr. Ang has wanted to shoot crows since he first saw the club in action at age 13. ''By the time I was 18, I was in the gun club,'' he said as he reloaded a double-shot Browning older than himself.

By 8 o'clock, it was over. The hunters put their dead birds into garbage bags, collected their empty shells and gathered by their cars to tally their kills. Tonight's estimated toll: 391, including those birds the marksmen saw drop into the mangroves.

''Not bad,'' proclaimed Mr. Tang, who claimed 40 kills of his own. A park employee collected the garbage bags for incineration. The birds that fall in the swamp are left behind. The monitor lizards will eat them.

Photo: Crows and pigeons in Singapore the other day. The crows, detested by the authorities, have been systematically killed off for 18 years. Volunteers with shotguns go out at dusk and kill as many as they can. (Jerome Ming/Orison Photos, for The New York Times)

Correction: September 30, 2000, Saturday An article on Sept. 21 about efforts by Singapore to control its population of crows characterized the country's size incorrectly. With 225 square miles, it is about 10 times as large as Manhattan, not the same size.